Gonna Be A Close Call
by serenitymeimei
Summary: Cindy and Lindsay have a drunken one night stand and don't remember any of it. What happens when they wake up together the next morning? Cindy/Lindsay


**Disclaimer:** Women's Murder Club isn't mine. If it were, it wouldn't have been an hour long hetero-fest!

**A/N:** Written for Women's Murder Club Day 2010! Enjoy celebrating, ladies!

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Cindy had always been a morning person. She loved waking up to the sun warming her skin and birds chirping happily just outside her window. It was her own little secret ritual, ever since she was a little girl- stretching all of her limbs one by one as she hovered just on the edge of consciousness, enjoying it, taking it all in before the day started.

But today wasn't one of those days.

Her head was pounding, her mouth tasted like an ashtray and even the smallest of movements caused the loosely draped sheets around her to rub against the tender skin of her back... Wait, skin? As in _bare_ skin?

Her eyes popped open, immediately regretting it as the innocent (previously happy) light streaming in through the drapes sent searing pain through her skull. It didn't matter though, she only needed those few seconds to confirm that yes, she was in fact naked. Completely- in her birthday suit, going commando- naked.

What in the hell happened last night?

Groaning, she reached up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. The last thing she remembered was drinking body shots off of her friend Jose's fake cleavage and dancing quite provocatively with Jill and Lindsay on the dance floor at her favorite drag hotspot. But everything after that? Well, she wasn't really sure. It was all pretty much a big blur.

Wait. Did she really bring them to a gay bar? How drunk _was _she?

Cindy sighed and rolled over onto her back, dropping her arms down next to her. Only, instead of meeting the cushy comforter that she'd been expecting, heavy limbs hit curves and before she knew it the person that those curves belonged to was stirring next to her.

With her heart in her throat she toppled out of bed, hitting the hardwood floor with a thump as she clung to a pillow modestly in front of her body, "Lindsay? What the hell are you doing in my bed?"

Watching from over the edge of the mattress, the woman in question grunted, blinking heavily in her direction before dropping her head back into the pillows.

"You mean, what the hell are _you_ doing in _my_ bed?"

Cindy's eyes widened, taking in her surroundings for the first time- bigger headboard, paler walls, Martha laying in the corner with a 'stupid human' look on her cute, fuzzy face.

Shit.

"Yes?"

"Ugh," Lindsay grumbled, pulling the blankets up over her face, "How did I let this happen again?"

Forgetting herself she stood, protective pillow dropping to the floor, hands on her hips, "Again? What do you mean _again_? Has this happened before? Did I blackout that time too?"

Cindy watched with a furrowed brow as the other woman came out of hiding, an incredulous look on her face.

"What? No! Not you, just... it's a long story and- Oh, my God!"

"What? What's wrong?"

Shielding her eyes, Lindsay grimaced and gestured blindly toward her, "Clothes, Cindy!"

Looking down she blushed, completely mortified, "Sorry!"

Her eyes darted around the room, searching frantically for the dress she'd worn yesterday or anything to hide her nudity, but no such luck. The place was spotless. So without much thought, Cindy climbed back into the bed, quickly pulling the covers up to her chin like a suit of cotton body armor.

This day just kept getting better and better.

"It's safe now," she whispered.

Lindsay blinked, squinting through the light as she rubbed her fingers across her forehead, the same way she always did when she was frustrated or tired or just didn't know what to say.

"Did we..." her voice wavered, "Did we actually, uh- _you know_?"

Cindy bit her lip and rolled onto her side, nodding apprehensively, "Pretty sure."

Their eyes met, a thick silence hanging between them. She hated the awkward morning after talk, even more so now that it was happening with a straight friend whom she'd been developing a crush on the last few months.

"Is it- I mean, are you okay? Have you ever done something like this before?"

"You mean a one night stand? Or..."

"Been with a woman," Cindy clarified.

"Oh," this time it was Lindsay's turn to blush, and she found herself unable to tear her gaze away from the little blooms of pink as they traveled down past her clavicles and underneath the sheet between her breasts, "Well, no. Not really."

"'_Not really?'_" she asked,"Let me guess, Jill?"

"How'd you know? Did she say something to you? 'Cause if she did there's gonna be hell to pay."

"She didn't," Cindy promised, smirking playfully, "You remember the Christmas party at Claire's and how drunk Jill got? Let's just say that there was a _lot_ of mistletoe in that house and far too many quiet corners to get trapped in."

Lindsay finally cracked a smile and laughed, making her feel oddly triumphant, "Yeah, she tends to go overboard with that ridiculous weed. Lord knows why, though. Nothing but a nuisance if you ask me."

"Right?" Cindy chuckled, "I'm sort of surprised you didn't figure it out sooner. You had to be wondering why I was practically clinging to you most of the night?"

"I figured you were just lonely," she shrugged shyly, "and I wasn't exactly hating the company."

Cindy's heart fluttered, the corner of her mouth twitching upward as she let the sheet fall from beneath her chin and propped her head up in the palm of her hand, "Really?"

Lindsay glared at her, her eyes shining with amusement, "Don't push it, Missy. You wanna get arrested again?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Those handcuffs are pretty kinky," she teased, "I could dig it."

"You would."

Despite her hangover, and all the little aches and pains it was causing, Cindy grabbed the pillow from underneath her and lobbed it playfully at Lindsay. Which of course- after the detective got over the shock- set off an uncharacteristic (on Lindsay's part anyways) chain reaction of retaliation. A pillow here and tangled legs there. Wrestling for the upper hand until Cindy found herself half on top of her friend. Silky skin sliding against hers from head to toe, breath fanning dangerously across her chin, red hair draping around them as their faces hovered only inches apart.

Lindsay's eyes darted down to her lips. Once, twice, and on the third time Cindy couldn't take it anymore.

"Please don't kill me," she whispered, quickly bringing their mouths together in a gentle kiss before she lost her nerve.

For a few tense moments, Lindsay's body froze. Then she felt it, the tiniest twitch of response, sweet lips parting beneath hers with a quiet gasp. She breathed a sigh of relief. The smell of perfume and fabric softener swirled around her, strong fingers digging into her ribs as their tongues met in a tentative dance. It was slow and thorough and perfect. Everything she could've asked for in a first kiss and more.

But it didn't stop there.

Lindsay moaned and wrapped her arms around Cindy's waist, tugging her closer, pulling her deeper into the embrace. It made her stomach warm and her toes curl, hands itching to explore the tanned skin laid out before her. She didn't resist. Breasts, abs, hips. Nothing was left untouched.

Cindy felt her pulse quicken, getting caught up in it all. Letting her lips stray across Lindsay's jaw and down her neck, gasping loudly as a toned thigh slid between hers and their hips rolled tightly together.

Then the phone rang. Shrilling loudly from its perch on the nightstand only a few feet away.

"No!" Lindsay groaned, "If that's Tom I'm wringing his cockblocking neck."

Cindy grinned and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips before reaching for the phone, "Answer it. If you don't, they'll just keep calling."

"But I don't want to," she pouted.

"Answer it, or I will."

"Fine," she grouched, pressing the on button, "Boxer."

Twenty seconds later she was rolling off of the detective, watching as she scrambled toward the dresser to find some clean clothes. It was going to be a long day. Nothing got Lindsay going this early in the morning like a dead body...

"...Alright, see you in ten."

Cindy pouted, the last of Lindsay's skin being covered as jeans slid up and over her hips and a shirt quickly fell into place. Long day indeed. How was she supposed to act like she didn't know what color underwear she was wearing when they crossed paths later in the day? 'Cause it wasn't gonna be easy.

"That was Jacobi," Lindsay explained, sitting next to her on the edge of the bed as she pulled a pair of socks on, "There's a crime scene downtown."

Cindy reached out, smirking inwardly when the simple touch on the older woman's arm sent a visible tremor racing through her. She hadn't realized how quickly things could change until just now. Yesterday she'd just been a girl with a crush, having accepted long ago that it would never result in anything. But today- well today she'd woken up with Lindsay beside her. She'd felt the cautious yet wanton desire in her touch, and seen the lingering doubt in her eyes. But that spark between them was there, simmering just below the surface, and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to cling to it with all of her might.

"We should talk, you know," Cindy looked up at her through hooded lashes, her thumb gently caressing Lindsay's wrist, "Not now, but after the case maybe? No pressure or expectations, just a little something to see where we sit with each other. Are you- I mean, would you be okay with that?"

For a split second Lindsay's expression was unreadable and Cindy's heart plummeted. But just as quickly as the thought came, it was gone. A warm hand covered her own, squeezing her fingers reassuringly, and she could finally breathe again.

"I'd like that."

Grinning, Cindy burrowed under the covers and closed her eyes, "Good. Now go catch the bad guy. I've got to get up in twenty minutes and I plan on savoring every last second of it."

She heard Lindsay chuckle and felt the bed shift as she got up to leave. What she didn't expect though, was to feel the press of lips against the top of her head and cold fingers swiping a few strands of hair off of her forehead. It was tender and sweet, another little ray of hope in the darkness, leaving her with high spirits and a sleepy smile curling her lips.

Maybe today wasn't so bad after all.

**End.**


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